Before There Was Time
by burninganchors
Summary: What if Imi wasn't born into captivity? What if she once roamed free upon the lands of the Hutmoors with others of her own kind? If that be true, then this is her story. Takes place before The Naming. Rating might change in later chapters.
1. RPG terms used throughout fic

This fic contains RPG terms. If you are not familiar with that, then they are listed here:

**Ears:**

**Auds  
Harks**

**Eyes:**

**Oculars  
Optics  
Voids**

**Nose:**

**Nares  
Nades  
Muzzle  
**

**Body:**

**Bodice  
Barrel**

**Legs:**

**Pillars  
Wrappings**

**Hooves:**

**Flints**

**Teeth:**

**Ivories  
****Weapons  
Daggers**

**If you see something you don't see on this list, feel free to ask what it means!**

**and no, you don't have to review this chapter hahaha.**


	2. prologue

**Okay, so I wanted to write a story about a horse. Sooo, this one is about Imi before she became a riding animal. Who said she was born into captivity? My story explores the idea that perhaps she was once wild, running free on the plains of the Hutmoors. This is her story.**

**Enjoy!!**

**Disclaimer: The idea is completely, totally mine! Yay! -dances- However, Imi nor any of the other characters are mine.**

Silence approached the lands in a wave, overtaking everything in its path. The night was swept along with it, but instead it settled like an azure blanket across the sky, dotted with little diamonds of light.

One of these tiny stars, high above in the deep blue heavens, was reflected in two dark orbs that gazed over the silent country, the serene sky. The optics were cold and filled with mistrust as they looked back and forth, back and forth. Finally, the assessment completed, a deep breath echoed along her lungs, and the owner of the eyes, a maiden by the name of Imi, let out a high trilling whinny, to signal her arrival to any who might listen, enemy and friend alike, although Imi knew no friends. Before rivals, she would do her best to stand tall and strong, not cowering in the face of her adversities, although some antagonists would likely get the best of her, fearful as she was. However, in the presence of those who might accept her, she was eagerly demure, and would be polite to those mentioned. If there were any.

The vixen stood for a few moments longer, letting the gentle, whispering breeze caress her sable mane, tossing it in front of her endless voids. Then slowly, knowing her call had alerted some who might come looking in the curiosity native to their species, she stepped forwards on slender legs, her hooves echoing on the rocky stones of the cliffs and forests. Tossing her delicate head, she picked up her pace into a gallop, her strides carrying her swiftly and silently down to the plains, the moonlight that filtered through the dank clouds making her seem a silver fire, a flashing ghost that raced with hoofbeats...faster, ever faster...

And so the mare named Imi, whose heart had been crushed, broken, and deserted, raced towards a land of uncertainty, where more of the same was likely to happen again, and she would once more lay desolate upon the forgotten sands of time, wasting away within her brokeness.

And yet, there was always a small glimmer of hope…

For wild hearts cannot be broken, right?

**i totally stole that last line. it's from a movie. an AWESOME movie. go watch it. or you can just review. it's easier.**


	3. Chapter 1

**okay, so this chappie is kinda like the last one, except time has passed and she is now closer to the lands, and she actually enters them in this chapter.**

**Enjoy!!**

**Disclaimer: If I at least had a horse as great as Imi, I'd be happy. But I don't, and I don't own this either. That really sucks.**

Moonlight dappled across the land, soft and serene. It struck a forest, a grassland, a mountain range. It filtered across the territories of many. It was beautiful.

But beauty is measured in the eye of the beholder. And this beholder's eyes were...skeptical, to say the least.

Her name was Imi.

The fea blinked once, her shutters closing over dravite voids as she gazed over these lands to which she had come. She let out her breath through flared nares as she caught the scents of many, and her heart quickened inside her alabaster dappled bodice. It had been long since she had been near so many. She lifted her sculpted head, looking back from whence she had come, and shuddered, the skin that was stretched tautly over strong muscles and tendons rippling in her trembling. But this was no time for fear, especially in the face of a new life, one different than the last. Delightfully, wonderfully different...possibly.

With a last toss of her head, she reared slightly, kicking out with her dark hooves before her, almost like a last valiant attempt to rid her of the demons that followed, and then she whirled and galloped down the grey mountainside, easily picking her way over loose stones and cliffs. Her strong silver pillars reached out, longer and longer, her banner floating in the air cast back from her swift departure. Eager to get away, she approached her maximum speed as she flew down the last feet of the kneeling mountainside, and then slowed once upon the grasslands. Her trotting pace slowed even further as she looked about with cool curiosity. A forest on her left was dark and mysterious, and would be easy to flee in. The tall mountains provided refuge from unnamed things beyond, and the grasslands were restful. A stream laughed its way across the downs somewhere nearby. All in all, it was a peaceful place.

It seemed.

With that thought in mind, she proceeded cautiously, harks pricked atop her cranium as she sampled the area for any sign of life. She made no sound as she advanced, her hooves muffled by the grasses, her breathing slow and controlled.

Here, she at last felt no fear, although anxiety was quick to take its place. Everything was better than what she had left. And she was tough. She had had to be, before. The stallions there, eager only for mating and carrying on their pointless lines, had been cruel and she despised them with furious passion. She had openly argued with them, fought some of them even in her desperate attempts to flee, which had only as of late succeeded. Her appearance could fool. Behind the delicate, beautiful exterior, she was fierce. Fast as lightning, deadly as fire. With hooves of flint and ivory teeth that could mean death, if the end was owed to you by this mare, it was inescapable. And she had dealt death, to her shame. And she had been chased away by others because of it.

Her temper always besting her. Tempers of flame mean the end of life.

But she did not seek death in this land. She sought only for a herd's acceptance, nothing more, nothing less. Love, if it even dared exist in her heart, was the last thing on her mind. With a last sigh, she stopped, and went absolutely still. Then she whinnied again, stopping upon a rock that jutted up from the ground, and waited for someone to come. Anyone to come.

And the wind, which fondled her mane and tail, gave a last lonely moan as it observed the broken mare upon the land, before it disappeared in horizons beyond leaving her utterly, desolately alone.

**i wonder who will come...send me your suggestions through reviews...**


	4. Chapter 2

**next chappie. hehe**

**Disclaimer: it isn't mine. even the "mysterious stranger" isn't mine, as you will soon find out...-claps hand over mouth-**

In the deep blackness of night, there was a song that erupted from the void and endless dreary times of blackness. A stallion, who all too well blended into that darkness, stiffened as it filled his auds. A low whicker flooded his nostrils as the pure, beauteous notes carried over to him and encompassed his figure in their warmth. All too soon they died away, and the ebony barrel of the stud shuddered, the coarse hairs that wrapped his body in a furry coat shivering with the enchantment.

He waited, feeling horribly alone in that one second, and then looked down to his small band of mares, who stood grazing in the shadow of the tall hills of his land. They were fine for the moment, perfectly content as their fine pillars, sturdy and well adapted to the harsh grounds of the Hutmoors, carried them easily over the land as they shifted to graze on the sweet grasses about their home terra. They had heard the call too, he knew, and would expect him to pursue the heavenly creature from whom that lyric had drifted.

It was expected.

So he must go.

Deep in his rumbling chest, his voicebox bellowed out a soft tenor note, and one older mare looked up, her strawberry roan head lifting ever so slightly to catch his gaze as her darker forelock fell across her eyes. With a deep sigh, she pushed her slightly overweight bodice over to him, supported only by the four wrappings beneath her. And yet they carried her with sure strides, and the stallion did not fear for her as she ambled over to him with all the speed such an animal could muster. Patiently, he waited until she was before him, and then spoke.

"Räenallya," he said pleasantly, "I go to seek the one whose call hath been uttered in past moments not so long ago."

"Yes," she replied without hesitation, her alto notes hanging in the air with a strange suspension. "My son, go and find the one who hungers for your home, and expand our ranks. But hurry back, as we are eager to have you and another, hopefully, within our ranks again, Darsor."

"I shall not fail thee," the majestic horse replied, before rearing slightly and taking off towards the sound, the beating of his hooves a terrifying thunder as his flints pounded against the ground with extravagant force, slowing only slightly when he had drawn nearer to his prize.

From the safe distance he stood at, he could see it was no trick, and was indeed a mare, and a beautiful one at that. When the moonlight glistened upon the round edges of her back and hindquarters, he saw the fine contours of her shape, and the beautiful conformation with which she had been assembled.

One of the finer breeds, no doubt.

He slowed, so she would not hear his hoofbeats, but continued at a soft and steady canter, and then stopped within meters of her, hidden amongst the shadows. Dirt and pebbles strewn by his arrival were flung forwards, and he realized they would probably alert the delicate femora to his presence, and he straightened regally before taking a last, hesitant step forwards, as his doubts suddenly overcame him in the presence of her beauty. But he only shook his head, the dark tresses of his long mane flying, before he lifted his head and nickering in a light, welcoming fashion.

And so it was that the fea heard his arrival, and at last turned her arresting eyes upon him.

**hehehe it's DARSOR!! yay!! okay, review kiddies, you know i love it. this time I can give you...a chocolate carving of Darsor!**


	5. Chapter 3

**Imi's still waiting for our "mysterious stranger" to come...**

**Disclaimer: It be Alison Croggons. It be not mine. **

Starlight twinkled in Imi's optics as she drank in the area around her, letting it fill her mind as she stood, giving the fraught creature time to think and calm herself.

The cloud of dust and dirt stirred by his arrival was the first thing the fea saw, though it had been only from the corner of her deep oculars. She stepped forwards in curiosity, and then drew back, uncertain, eyes shifting nervously while her hindquarters tensed, the muscles of her moonstruck haunches coiled as a spring, prepared at any moment to flee if the stranger should be one unwelcoming to such mares as she.

But soon a soft, gentle greeting that disappeared almost as soon as expelled from a pair of lungs resonated within her harks, welcoming and light, and she stiffened slightly from years of habit, then relaxed more than she had in days, even though she still knew not who followed.

Inwardly cursing herself for being so unobservant of any others in the area, the vixen's silver spotted neck moved sinuously as her sculpted head turned and tilted to gaze, surprised, at the stud before her.

Her first thought was that she was looking into a deep void, an empty hole where there was no color, only blackness. But as the moonlight skipped jovially over his masculine haunches and submersed itself within the etched features of his chest, she discovered the different hues his ebonite frame possessed, and dismissed that thought as ridiculous.

As her eager mocha orbs quickly gathered more information from his stark appearance, she felt the tension in her body slowly, slowly slip away. Nothing about his posture was hostile, although from the way he proudly carried himself upon his blackened pillars, she could easily tell he was one of power in these lands. He probably had his own band, she supposed, and the need for family quickly jumped into her mind before suppressed by other, warring emotions.

She observed silently a few seconds more before acknowledging his greeting, which in all reality had passed only moments previously, though her gleaning of knowledge seemed to have taken hours in her mind.

And yet, the moon remained in her place, suspended as she watched the scene play out before her of a meeting in the moonlight.

She dipped her head, letting the tendrils of her mane fall across her forehead in an ebonite wave that shifted colors in the light cast down by the sickle moon, concealing the shy, yet proud, mare that walked beneath its tender strands. The ivory and silver overcoat of hairs across her body shifted as her muscles moved to accommodate the shifting of her appendages as she turned fully to face him, a curious and polite expression sketched across her facade.

"Greetings, m'Lord," she said, addressing him politely and as best she could for being one so ignorant of their ways. "I be Imi, and I seek haven in your lands, if they might so accommodate me," she said, eyes flitting quickly away and back again. Her banner, starting grey but shifting to a deep, endless black as the strands grew thinner, swished softly, being the only sound in that moment other than the sounds of night. The very mistress who owned the tail was now holding her breath inside her delicate barrel, awaiting his response.

**as you, too, reader, await his response, please review. Do it for Imi! I'll give you Imi-shaped cookies!!**


	6. Chapter 4

**_PELLINOR BELONGS TO ALISON CROGGON...BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN'T ENJOY THIS STORY AND REVIEW IT AS WELL._**

Inclining his roman head, the varg let her words submerse themselves within his auds, his charred caudal appendage thoughtfully whisking through the atmosphere with an air of deliberation.

"Do you seek only for respite? Or shall you be making your sanctuary here, in my domain?" he cautiously inquired, stygian gaze capturing hers with a steely force.

Uneasily, the essa shifted her weight, frontward column drifting forwards to skim the land with hesitation. Blades of grass were left crumpled in its wake, only to spring up again by the time her next words were uttered. "I…I am not sure, my Lord," she replied honestly, looking away. Again, her anxiety caused her to dance nervously onto the other haunch, follicles rippling against the epidermis. Her lungs had seemed to stop working, and her pulse was a worried thrum within her bod. Painful was the look she cast, and pity should have been given to her in this frenzied state.

The effect, however, was enough to make a resonating chuckle begin within the knight's gullet. "Why so nervous, mare? It was merely a question. Come, whatever your decision, I have reached my own: you may reside within my band, so should you please. If you feel the need to deny our kinship and one day take flight again, then we will discuss it further upon that date. I do not ask," he continued, as a stutter formed within Imi's pallet and she stepped backwards in obvious shock to his agreement, "for you to perform all herd-like duties until you decide to remain as part of our family." He gave her a pointed glance, and she understood his meaning. "However, some will be expected of you." Demurely, she nodded, although such was the relief that coursed through her veins she wanted to prance and buck and scream for joy. Yet her happiness was constrained within a composed corpse.

"Thank you, thank you, m'Lord," she murmured, and then her sculpted muzzle jerked upwards to meet his eyes again. "Oh, and, if you don't mind my asking…you never told me your name," she asked, harks tilting in question once more. The action caused swathes of onyx tapestry to cascade downwards and cover the similarly hued voids, making her expression practically unreadable.

The czar, coming to companionably walk by her side, paused. "Oh. It is Darsor, my lady Imi." Lightly, his flints danced across the earth until his hide was parallel to the contrasting shade of her own. "Now come, let us be off! The night is fading, and soon my herd shall be in need of my services again." Dipping his head, his powerful hindquarters bunched beneath him. Tainted skin rippled across the taut muscles and tendons, light dancing across the patterns cast by the tendons and ligaments that pieced together so fine a steed. The mare caught her breath once, looking upon him as he began to canter leisurely away, and then she too propelled herself forwards, eager not to be left behind. Scythes struck the earth with purpose and raised debris all about her crystalline shape, and her cranium ascended proudly. She was of _his_ kind now. The realization brought a new hope to the mare, the very fibers of her being warming to the prospect, and a new light shone within her eyes as her paces fell in beside the one christened Darsor.

Casting a glance at the maiden now within his possession, the baron couldn't help but feel a heat within his barrel. Her delicate, modest beauty was enough to make him unaware of everything else about them. And yet, he sensed she hid some mysterious secrets - perhaps painful memories as well, judging by the haunted look within those liquid pools. Something about the damsel intrigued him beyond those flat personalities he usually encountered, and he wasn't afraid of it…no; his hunger to gain knowledge of every aspect of her being was unlike him, and in so short a time. Not even a day - barely an hour - had passed between them, and already he was ensnared.

Shaking his majestic head at himself and his folly, he slightly increased their pace, and the mare hurried to keep stride. Both were very evenly matched in stamina, although his speed, of course, was incomparable. Yet she kept pace well as they drew ever nearer towards the place he - and now, she - called home.


	7. Chapter 5

_Hmm, is MM returning to Pellinor? Maybe, maybe not. But I recently quit forum roleplaying, and since I'm going through withdrawal, I wanted to type something like what I used to type there. But it's a little watered down, so probably a little easier for the public to understand ;)_ _Enjoy! Oh, and feel free to PM/review if you don't understand something... I really have to update the terms sheet. :P_

_And oh yeah...Imi, Darsor, and the Hutmoors are not fabricated by my own mind...ask Alison Croggon; I think she knows something about that..._

* * *

A murky dawn, off-set by churning nimbuses above, greeted the pair that had advanced all throughout the darker hours. The sun did not dare show its face through the foreboding atmosphere, suggestive of precipitation, and merely slumbered behind ranks of roiling masses above. Similarly, yet at once entirely different in manner, every stride of the duet subjugated the terrain in a manner that left not destruction, but beauty, in its wake. Perhaps a golden morn chose not to appear, in terror that its brilliance would be dim in comparison to the equine masterpieces traversing.

The twosome, having crossed an expanse larger than previously thought, were slowly tiring. Stamina declined, and the powerful strides that stirred the very core of the crust beneath them were devoid of strength that had been present in previous moments. Yet their worry at having to stop, when they were so eager for what lay tantalizingly close, was for naught. The chasms perched amongst the facade of the czar were concentrated as they observed the territory, and he was pleased to announce their arrival upon his lands. The proprietor allowed himself a proud toss of the chiseled iron crown and a spring in the cadence, and the mistress accompanying him gave an amused snort in response to the action.

Slowing, as their destination was close and rest was in order, the gaze of the stallion once again slid over to his companion, a perturbed expression crossing his features. "What? Is a king not allowed to feel welcomed in his own kingdom?"

Her dark opts delivered more than her dialogue ever could. "It is right that he feels welcomed. It is humorous when he exhibits his pleasure in a little dance of his own. If you do not mind my saying, m'Lord."

A chuckle rumbled throughout the barrel in a bass that warmed the maid to her hooves. Rediscovering her inner fire after an absence in which she felt washed out and empty, left her emoting a certain joy as well, and a spark in her conversation with the male was only further evidence of the fact. He, too, enjoyed the side she now bared to him, and found the stimulating exercise of their discourse a pleasant thing. Yet as his labrum parted to deliver lines, both found their towers attune and erect to the call of a feminine in their own species.

"It appears we're here. Welcome, my lady Imi, to paradise." Although he was modest, and not vain in the least, he felt a certain arrogance overtake his senses when it came to boasting of his home. Not many flourished upon the Hutmoors, and those who did were of the toughest sort - so it was no little thing to feel any sort of pride over. Observing her, he thought it seemed justified as well, as she was clearly daunted and retreating into the shell he'd found her in. To be pleased or sympathetic, over her reaction to his land? Ever accommodating, he sought to make her more comfortable. The elongated surface of his convex muzzle bumped her withers, and she fought not to shiver as warm breath spread across her shoulders. Her own arch swiveled to face him, and Imi found solace within the depths of a gaze that was as limitless as the depths of the universe. Drawing strength from the one she'd only just met, the one who had changed her already in such a short time, it was the mare who sauntered forwards first.

Certain that he'd done the very best for her confidence, he followed, measures soon matching hers, then overtaking as his impatient strides lengthened. Inwardly, she felt spasms of laughter at his enthusiasm, and wondered what it was like to feel like that upon returning to loved ones.

_Well, maybe now you'll know._

* * *

_Hey, much anticipated - in the next chap, Imi meets la familia! (yay for Spanish! and before you ask: no, I'm not Spanish, nor am I taking it, so if I messed up a simple word like 'family' then feel free to not blame me.) Stay tuned... maybe some more Pellinor (not just this fanfic) is in your future._


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